


Ties of Trust

by HannahLydia



Series: Kinktober '18 [4]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Badwrong Thoughts, Blindfolds, Consensual Kink, Established Relationship, Gags, Kinktober, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Power Bottom Jack, Restraints, Sensory Deprivation, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 01:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16186922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahLydia/pseuds/HannahLydia
Summary: Here, Rhysie. Come on, you trust me, don't you? It's just a little sex game, baby. Would I steer you wrong? Maybe while we're here lemme into your skull again for a bit. Connect the dots, port to port, Iemme see if I can be in two places at once. Maybe let me cut you a little bit, baby, y'know, for all the freakin' grief you've put me through. Been itchin' to pay you back for Helios, for Atlas, for turning my fucking head...For the 'sensory deprivation' prompt, day three of Kinktober '18.





	Ties of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, sorry- I'm more than a little late posting this one!  
> As with my other Kinktober prompts so far, this has been entirely typed up on my mobile so apologies in advance for any potential errors or issues with flow.
> 
> I got a bit tired of looking at this one so sorry for the mess, I hope it's still enjoyable~

Rhys was putting a hell of a lot on faith. 

Here he was, splayed out across the bed in a starfish formation, wrists and ankles tied to the four corners of the bedposts thanks to an array of awful ties (awful in Jack's opinion, anyway) and for all the world he looked like, well-- _l_ _ike_ _a gourmet freakin' meal, that's what. Served up on a damn platter_ _._

Eyeing the makeshift restraints with satisfaction, even testing the tension with a finger, Jack grinned malevolently.  _Guess we're finally puttin' these fashion disasters to good use. They do the friggin' job, at least._

The ties were long (had to be for Rhys to tuck them into his pants) and were of good, silken quality. Rhys had managed to control his squirming up until this point, and Jack suspected that it was because he was too sentimental - scared of damaging one of these babies by putting too much strain on the knots.  

_Works for me_ _._ He thought smugly, watching every exaggerated movement of Rhys' chest as it rose and fell. The kid was breathing evenly but deeply, calm in the face of his particular predicament.   
Not only was he bound to the bed like some kind of human sacrifice, but he was also gagged, blindfolded and had his ears stuffed up with plugs from R&D. All the way from Hyperion's explosives department, thank you very much.

Rhys was without sound, sight, freedom of movement and his own voice. In fact, Jack could do anything he wanted to him right now. Any damn thing.  
A year or so ago, when they had just started out, the temptations might have been limitless.

_Here, Rhysie. Come on, you trust me, don't you? It's just a little sex game, baby. Would I steer you wrong? Maybe while we're here lemme into your skull again for a bit. Connect the dots, port to port, Iemme see if I can be in two places at once. Maybe let me cut you a little bit, baby, y'know, for all the freakin' grief you've put me through. Been itchin' to pay you back for Helios, for Atlas, for turning my fucking_ _head..._

Except Jack had sincerely fucked up since then. After all this time he'd come to actually _care_ about him, an experience that wasn't entirely new to him, but unexpected all the same. None of those wicked ideas held any colour for him anymore. Rhys' trust was like a gift that just kept giving, and he knew better than to ruin it this time. 

Looking down at Rhys from where he hovered above him, he considered (not for the first time) that Rhys might have done some tinkering in his bread-box. Fiddled with his AI, added some line of code that made him susceptible to him, so that when Jack had been uploaded back into his own body he'd been doomed from the get-go.

_Little shit. Little fucking shit._

Did he really believe it? Nah. But it sure helped to have a scapegoat. It made it easier to explain why the only being-in-his head he wanted was to be on the kid's mind, and the only marks he wanted to leave were hickies.

_Ugh, Christ, freakin' spare me..._

Jack would have been angry at himself, but that was almost an impossibility. Besides, when Rhys looked as good as this, all long legs and spread out in his birthday suit, it was hard to feel anything except the blood rushing to his crotch.

The CEO snapped his fingers then, assessing whether or not Rhys reacted. If he twitched or turned his head then he knew he could still hear through the ear plugs.   
Rhys did neither of those things; he only continued to face the ceiling blindly.   
The sight of this made Jack's cock throb with expectation. While he very much liked Rhys hanging onto his every word, this was something different for both of them, opening up a whole new level.

"Ohh-h, buddy, the things I wanna do to you..." He heard himself groan, sitting up on his knees between Rhys' spread legs. He lazily stroked himself, armed with an array of possibilities. Rhys had even lined them out himself wearing one of those sassy little grins of his - a selection of lubes (some flavoured and some not), a few toys, a belt,  even a gun - _the kinky fuck_ \- but Jack recognised it as a sculpted model, a prototype from design, and therefore harmless.

Right now Jack didn't want any of those things. He was a simple man at heart, and Rhys' blind faith alone was arousing enough without all the fanfare. The playthings could wait. After all, Jack had a few rounds in him; he'd knocked back more than enough Engorge pills for the occasion.

_Gonna make you wail through that gag, baby boy. Gonna make you come so hard and fast you're gonna have freakin'_ _whiplash..._

He tapped the inside of Rhys' legs now, and the younger man shivered. They both knew there was enough give in the ankle restraints that Jack could manipulate his legs if he wanted, could raise his knees up to fuck him nice and deep.

Somehow with limited senses Rhys was totally calm. He was slack, pliable, as Jack raised his knees and angled his hips into position with firm, commanding hands. The only indication that he knew what was happening were a series of inhales that were shorter than usual, and a pink flush creeping up from his jawline to his cheekbones.

" _Good_ _boy_ , Rhysie..." Jack hummed in appraisal, even if the man in question couldn't hear. It didn't matter, it was more for himself anyway - a little muttered lewdity to stoke the fire.

Rhys' dark, auburn eyebrows ascended slightly above the fabric of the blindfold. He was waiting, trying to be cool but feeling the mounting expectation.

Retrieving the lube, Jack poured a thick glob on two fingers of his right hand, and touched the tips to Rhys' neat little hole. He began massaging the ring of muscle there, getting the entrance nice and slick, his mind ticking over as he did so.   
The heel of his palm was ghosting Rhys' balls as he pressed his fingertips inside, pushing in two at once. He knew from experience Rhys could take it. He knew from looking at him, all puckered, glistening and pink that Rhys had already worked himself open earlier.

Sucking in a short breath through his nose, sharp and punctuated, Rhys made a sound like a gasp.   
"Mmmffff...!"

"Thee-eere you go, pumpkin. You wanted this so frickin' bad, huh?" Jack asked rhetorically, an aroused thrum to his voice as he slid his fingers in to the first knuckle.

Rhys' body quivered. His rigid dick, which was pressed flat to his stomach, began twitching every so often as if a livewire had been pressed to it.   
As Jack worked him with his hand, scissoring and then curling his fingers within him, he found himself staring at that petite little hard-on of Rhys' with growing desire.

Jack was always, _always_ the dominant one in their relationship. He had taken it once, maybe twice, in their time together, just to see what it was like at the other end of things. Rhys wasn't exactly gifted in the size department but he had always been enough for him. Hell, he had always been _perfect_ for him. In all honesty, Jack might have felt threatened by anything else.

Gaze fixed on Rhys' length, he realised he didn't want to fuck up into him straight away. It caught him with mild surprise that he wanted to take a damn seat.

 _Shit_...

Jack usually point-blank refused to bottom, because it meant being _vulnerable_ \- a sensation he hated. It meant opening up a side of him he didn't want visible. But like this? Rhys was literally blind to it. There would be no doubt about 'vulnerability', no doub as to who was really in charge. Jack could impale himself on that cock of his and still be the one holding all the cards.

The fingering soon became a means of distracting Rhys from what he really intended, building him up for a good dicking when he was about to be in for a surprise. Jack's free hand was no longer tugging at his own erection, it was trying to prise out some lube one-handed. _And if I could do this, ladies and gentlemen,_  he thought somewhat humorlessly, _I'd have joined the freakin' circus by now._

When he finally had more of the thick, sticky fluid coating his free hand, he split his time between working himself open and giving Rhys' dick a few gratuitous pumps.

A cry soon permeated through Rhys' gag. "Mmahhkk..." He sounded out, low and desperate. It might have been Jack's name, but it was so muffled that it was impossible to tell. The younger man's hands were curled into tight fists, his hips rising steadily off of the mattress.

"Yeah, Rhysie..." Jack growled back, noticing the subtle driving motions that Rhys attempted, even tied down as he was. He wanted to feel him buck up into him like that, wanted to hear him cry into that strip of fabric over his mouth like a murder victim.

The moan that tore from Rhys as Jack withdrew his fingers was nothing compared to the one that followed when Jack straddled him. The younger man had seconds to work out what the weight on his abdomen meant, coupled with the feeling of Jack's legs strewn across his own.

Rhys must have figured it out, because soon he had tipped his head back, grinding it into the pillow. He writhed like a man possessed, moving his head with such determination from side-to-side, up-and-down and then back again that Jack realised he was trying to loosen the blindfold

"Mmmauu... Mmff--mhhh--!"   

It was no use, the blindfold wouldn't shift.

With a grin that was part-sadistic, Jack took a firm hold of the base of Rhys' shaft, angled it home and began to sit back down onto it.

" _Mmmhhhhhhh_!!!!" Rhys spasmed, throwing his head back and arching his spine as Jack lowered himself down onto him.

The CEO screwed his eyes shut, expression forming a kaleidoscope of emotions before settling on a cocksure, self-important grin as he adjusted. 

God, why did it take him an age to get used to this feeling when Rhys could probably fit a traffic cone up his ass and thank you for it? 

In his generosity, he reached for the foam-like shapes that were plugging up Rhys's ears and plucked them free, leaning down so their faces were a mere inch apart. 

"Oh, I'm gonna be havin' my way with _you_ , sweetheart. Make no mistake about that,"

The shuddering sound that tore from Rhys' lungs was like wounded laughter. It was the first time he had heard anything within a half-hour, and his wrists finally tugged at those colourful ties he loved so damn much. 

Jack could feel him pulse within him as he nipped at an earlobe, could feel the press of his hips as he grinned down into that unseeing face. 

Maybe he would relent at some point - maybe he'd be kind enough and release the blindfold just to see those pretty eyes of his. 

Maybe. 

But for now they were just getting started. 


End file.
